


For better or worse

by yunhaiiro



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Endgame Alternate Ending, Gen, M/M, This is how I would've done it, endgame spoilers, not an actual happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18711739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunhaiiro/pseuds/yunhaiiro
Summary: This is my take on how I would've finished Avengers: Endgame. Full spoilers for the film, of course.The title is a continuation of the phrase "Whatever it takes".





	For better or worse

The moment Thanos looks up at the gauntlet and sees no Infinity Stones, is the moment he knows he has lost this time.

He looks over at Tony Stark, holding them in his own suit’s gauntlet, one of the few pieces that aren’t falling apart. The multicolored rays of power go through him, rooting him to the spot, making him grunt in pain. Right next to him, grasping at the man’s other hand, is Steve Rogers, almost down on his knees, power also coursing through him and sharing in Tony’s pain. Steve is still holding what’s left of his shield in his other hand. Now, electricity crackling around them, he can’t let go of either.

Tony snaps his fingers. Steve feels it reverberate through him.

They share the same destiny.

Iron Man and Captain America defeated Thanos, together.

Whatever it took.

 

* * *

 

Pepper is still quickly wiping a rebellious tear when Tony’s hologram chimes back up.

“Oh, by the way”, the hologram says.

Everyone holds their breath for one last surprise, maybe one last miracle.

It doesn’t happen. The hologram continues.

“Cap asked me to borrow this so he could record a message too. But I told him to get some pen and paper and make it  _his_ style, not copy me.” A pause, where he seems amused at his own comeback. “Anyway, to whoever he wrote it- I’m guessing Barnes.” Tony sighs. “Tell him it’s the note folded inside this mask.”

Pepper sighs and lets go of that stupid sliver of hope he had just harbored.

The funeral is… Quiet, of course. Pepper can’t shake the feeling that Tony would’ve wanted to have an open bar, maybe a DJ. Instead, she lowers the flower wreath into the lake’s calm surface and carefully places Tony’s first chest arc reactor on it. The engraving catches the light of the clouded day and reflects its letters back to her.

   _Proof that Tony Stark has a heart_

She lets it go.

On her side, James Barnes does the same. He is holding his own wreath, Peruvian lilies and orchids dotting it all white, in one hand. In the other, Steve’s compass, with Peggy’s picture inside. It’s been closed already but he knows it’s there. He put the wreath on the water, then the compass, and pushes it ever so slightly so it drifts away.

He stands back up, next to Pepper. Neither of them say a word to each other. Neither of them shed a tear there.

However, after a while, Pepper swears she had heard him say “thank you” under his breath, looking over at the horizon.

 

* * *

 

Afterwards, Pepper approaches Sam and Bucky, who are on one quiet corner of the house, not really talking to one another but in quite amiable silence, considering the circumstances.

Pepper tells them about the note. They look at each other, like they expected this, and Bucky almost seems to try to excuse himself from going. Sam raises a hand before he can say one word, though, and tells him.

“Come on. Let’s read it.”

They follow Pepper to a study. She opens one drawer and hands them an envelope.

It is addressed to Bucky. He takes it, hand trembling imperceptibly.

Sam doesn’t try to read it over his shoulder, doesn’t even try to get close to him.

He just waits for Bucky to finish it.

 

 

   _Bucky:_

   _If you’re actually reading this… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you alone again._

   _I don’t even know how to start this… I guess this is my will. Or, rather, Captain America’s. You know how I feel about the Captain America mantle. I didn’t love being that, exclusively, but I believe he is a necessity._

   _Just in case something happens to mine too, I made Tony make another shield. Also cashed some more favors with the Wakandans for the vibranium. Now I’ll definitely never be able to repay them, specially not after they helped you. I’m sorry you got dragged into this again. I hope we managed and you’re okay now. Don’t hold it against me, that I made you lose another five years of your life._

   _I’m not sure how to say this in writing. It’s not how I’d want this to happen. But here it is: I want to pass onto Sam both the shield and the Captain America name. If he’ll take them._

   _You might be wondering why I didn’t choose you for this. If I don’t think you can do it. Banish that from your mind: I know you can. I know you could. I just don’t want you to. Bucky, there’s no one I’d rather walked away from all this than you. No one who deserves a quiet life more than you. I also wish I could’ve done that ~~with you~~ but things never really go the way we want, do they._

   _But you have to promise me you will live. For the both of us. I know this is a selfish thing to ask. But I know I’ll only find my peace if you find yours._

   _Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone. And see you at the end of the line._

   _Love,_

   _Steve_

 

 

Bucky clears his throat, startling Sam, who had started to zone out. He startles him further when he rips half of the paper sheet off, folds it and puts it in his pocket without a word.

Bucky clears his throat again (Sam is increasingly concerned about the man, who seems to be barely holding it together now) and gestures for Sam to approach and take the letter off his hand. Sam does, carefully, and reads it while Bucky looks up and away.

Sam stops reading after his name is mentioned, to look up in surprise.

Bucky nods ands gets out a tired smile.

“You deserve it.”

“Wh- I mean, it’s… It’s an honor, but…” He looks down at the letter, but the ripped-up piece starts right after his nomination as Captain America. Sam makes a face. “I’m guessing the rest is personal.”

“It is.”

Sam takes a quick glance up at the rest of the letter in his hand.

“All of it is personal. You should keep this.”

“It’s yours too. Congratulations,” and his smile turns more genuine, but also even more tired. “Captain America.”

“Barnes…” He still tries to give the letter to Bucky. He stops him.

“Don’t worry. I have mine”, Bucky says, putting a hand over his pocket.

He approaches Sam, moving like a man just thawed out from ice. He puts an arm over his shoulders.

“Let’s talk to T’Challa and get your shield.”

Sam follows him, just now kicking in the full implications of what he is about to accept. Right before leaving the study, he looks up at the ceiling and says thank you to Steve in his mind.

   _For everything._

Once outside, Bucky let’s him go and Sam approaches T’Challa, Steve’s letter still in his hand. Sam makes a mental note of just keeping the paragraph where he’s mentioned and try to get the rest back to Bucky at some point, even if he has to personally put the letter in the guy’s goddamned hands and close his fist for him.

T’Challa sees him and raises an eyebrow, somehow already aware of the situation even though he had been one of the Snapped too and should be as out of depth as the rest of them. But of course, the King of Wakanda had to know more than everyone else.

Bucky keeps some distance away, leaning against a wall. Thinking.

Every sentence of Steve’s letter had hurt. Not because he hates not being chosen. But because now he’ll never get to hear it from Steve. Or the many things they should’ve talked about long ago. Things Bucky will now have to hold forever, in his chest, like caged birds that have nowhere to go.

In one corner of the half letter Bucky had kept, there’s a small poem written in the margin. Bucky can’t bear to look at it right now, but its words are seared into his mind anyway.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's what we deserved, imo.
> 
> The poem's source is [this nurse's autograph book from WWI](https://transcribathon.com/en/documents/id-17470/item-189092/). The actual poem is [this](https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/remember-me-3/-) by Percy French, but I've always liked the half-remembered one by a 1917 soldier the most.
> 
> Kudos, comments and cries are all endlessly appreciated.


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